


Secrets

by TheWriter13200



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 08:50:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5737324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWriter13200/pseuds/TheWriter13200
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are secrets abound in the golden halls of Asgard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Godsboygirl](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Godsboygirl).



> For Godsboygirl. 
> 
> I'm horrible at human AU's, so instead of a "first Halloween party" I wrote something different. I hope you enjoy it though! 
> 
> I do not own Marvel, or any of the characters within.

The Beginning  
***

There's something that none know, hidden deep in the halls of Asgard. Behind locked doors and magic spells, a secret lies, known only by three. When the doors unlock and the magic falls in tatters, none suspect a thing. 

They believe that she is in love. (They got that right.) They believe she loves the golden prince. (They got that wrong.) They believe she hates the dark prince. (They got that wrong as well.) 

Yet, they still keep up appearances in broad daylight, out in the streets of Asgard. She shoots barbed comments and he snarls in reply, both holding amusement in their eyes, as the golden prince guffaws and tries to keep up the act. Many in Asgard think it odd, that the golden prince does not defend his chosen maiden from the sharp tongue and cutting words of his younger brother. They have grown fond of the little once-mortal, drawn by wide curious eyes and a genuine smile. They wish to protect her from the dark hold of the younger prince (oh, only if they knew). 

In the shadows of the hall however, the youngest and the once-mortal smile a grin full of secrets, fingers twining as they stand in the protective shadow of the older prince. He hides their secret well, guards it with the will of one worthy to hold Mjolnir, and gives them their privacy. And in the darkness of the dark prince's room, there is more than smiles and twining fingers, but even the golden prince would not dare to interfere with such privacy by even thinking such things. 

All is well in Asgard, even in broad daylight, and in the shadows, and behind locked doors and magic spells. That is, all is well, until it all goes horribly wrong. 

The once-mortal is a curious creature by nature, enraptured by things she can not understand and delighted in the things she can. All of Asgard knows this, the good and the bad. It just so happens that the decidedly bad residents of Asgard, the ones who glare at her back in the streets and wish to send her back where she came from (or worse), pay heavy attention to this fact and use it to their advantage. The day is one like any other, bright, sunny and warm, with a faint summer breeze in the air. The only difference is that the once-mortal does not go out in the city with the princes, who sit in the king's throne room with foreign dignitaries, but with palace guards. Assured of safety, the once-mortal travels the city, greeting friends and acquaintances and seeking a small adventure, a tale to tell when she arrives back at the palace. (What a price to pay, for a bit of adventure and a tale to tell.)

She hears of a rare occurrence near the waterfall and seeks it out, guards in tow. They are relaxed, assured of safety just as much as her. (They are killed easily and she is taken with hardly a problem.) 

The princes are in the middle of hearing one dignitary, a man from Vanaheim, drone ceaselessly about a local problem. He is interrupted quite rudely (but to the princes thanks) by the great doors of the hall banging open. An out of breath guard, disheveled and wounded, stumbles into the hall. 

"Lady Jane has been kidnapped!"

Strained silence falls, broken as the King rises and strikes his staff off the floor. "Send the guard," roars the King, "and retrieve her!" 

In an instant, the hall is a flurry of motion, guards and servants hurrying to fulfill the decree of their King. None but the golden prince notice the chair once occupied by the dark prince, empty before the King even rose to his feet.

This is just the beginning. 

***  
The Middle  
***

The beginning is not too far off from the middle, but the middle is greatly separated from the end. At least, this is how Thor feels. 

He spends what feels like seconds among the rushing guards in the palace before flooding out into the city of Asgard. For what feels like hours, he crouches behind a bush that fully conceals him, focused on the mouth of a popular cave and trying to dull out the sound of the rushing water of the waterfall. It has long since grown dark and the only thing allowing him to even see the outline of the cave is his heightened Asgardian senses. 

He is alone, having broken away from the rest of the guards some time earlier. Thor's sure that his (half) brother is near, if not already here. He has been waiting for him to appear, but as the night carries on, the shadows growing, he grows restless and decides he can wait no longer. 

Jane's safety can wait no longer. 

Without making a sound, he creeps out from behind the bush and enters the cave on silent feet. For a long time, he just wanders in the darkness, finding nothing. Then, however, he sees the faint glow of a torch and his steps are just a millisecond faster, a deep thrum settling in his veins. Soon, he stands at the perimeter of a large cavern, lit by torches lining the rough, earthen walls. The roar of the waterfall is even louder here, one wall completely gone, made of moving water. 

The cavern is mostly bare, save for the torches and the unconscious, wounded woman collapsed along the far wall. Thor's grip on Mjolnir tightens. Jane. He hesitates for perhaps half a second, only long enough to survey the cavern for other occupants. When he finds none, he rushes forward, only to he stopped by a deep, mocking voice. 

"I would stop, if I were you." What Thor previously believed to be a shadow detached itself from the wall behind Jane. A tall man, though not by the standards of the Æsir, with close cropped blonde hair and a rugged, scarred face, smiles at him grimly. There are holes in his smile, from missing teeth, and the ones that are there look as if they've been sharpened to a point. 

"I would've thought you would come faster," the man continued. "She is, after all, your beloved. But I must say that even you, my Golden Prince, have grievous faults." 

Thor's eyes narrow. "Give me Jane and perhaps your death will be quick." 

The man appears amused, casting him a look as he turns to Jane. "Oh, this?" He takes ahold of Jane's hair, hauling her up roughly. A weak cry of pain, hampered by her unconsciousness, issues from her lips as she mightily manages to open her eyes. Pain swims in the copper brown orbs, and something deep within Thor snaps. 

This man's death will not be swift, he will make sure of that. 

"Such a small, insignificant little insect for such a threat from the prince of Asgard." A wicked, eerie grin turns up the man's mouth. "Let's see how tough this little insect is, eh?" 

"Don't you dare," Thor begins, taking a step forward. 

"Ah, ah, ah." The man suddenly brandished a curved knife to Jane's throat, and Thor came to an abrupt halt. "I told you to not come any closer. We wouldn't want to ruin the fun before we even got to play, would we?"

Jane is aware of what's happening, Thor can tell by the widening of her eyes and the delicate hand she has curved around the man's arm, trying to pull the knife at her throat away. 

"Release Jane." Thor says without faltering. "Release Jane and I will do as you wish." 

"Oh, I don't think so. You see, we're going to play a game. You're going to do something for me and if you don't....Jane here will pay the price." 

His grip on Mjolnir tightens convulsively. With only a simple knife, this man threatens something far more precious than he could ever hope to attain. 

Thor will not let him damage something so precious. 

The man grins. "Put down the hammer." 

Thor frowns, hesitating. 

The man's eyebrows draw together and he presses the knife harder into Jane's skin, not enough to cut the skin but just enough to make a spike of panic shoot through Thor. 

"I would hate for our game to end so soon," he says, shaking his head. "Now. Put. Down. The. Hammer." 

Thor grimaces, but complies and the man grins in delight. He shifts, a shudder rippling down his spine as a chill swept through the cavern. Odd, he thought, cold was not common in Asgard. 

"Good." The man slightly eased the knife away from Jane's neck, but still kept the blade on her skin. "Now, I want your word that I won't be punished."

Anger overtakes Thor's expression. "You dare—"

"Ah ah," the blade presses farther into Jane's flesh and Thor swears the cavern gets even colder. "I will not be punished by the guards of the All-Father when they find me. Your word." 

He grits his teeth. "You have my word." 

The man grins again in a psychotically happy way. "Good," he practically purrs, then his smile drops. "This is rather boring, am I right? How about clearing some of the obstacles?" He tugs on Jane's hair harshly and her jaw tightens. "This one, namely. It would make a nice chase for you and I afterwards, wouldn't it?" 

Thor's features twist into a snarl as the temperature drops again, nearly freezing. Frost creeps along the floor. 

Frost. Thor does a double-take. Then, he looks back at Jane and the man and realizes that the man's fate will be much, much, much worse than whatever he has planned. 

He opens his mouth to try and buy time, should they need it, but he did not need to. The man's knife shudders and then shatters, splintering into pieces that do nothing to harm Jane. He makes to keep ahold of Jane, but an invisible force rips him back and slams him into the cavern wall at a speed that is sure to break bones. 

Thor does not pity him.

Jane crumples and, despite the urge to rush at the man ruthlessly, Thor hurries to her side. She shakes as he helps her sit up, breathing quick and uneven, and unshed tears gleam in her eyes. Her skin is cold, raised with goosebumps, and he realizes that she is not just shivering from shock. As he unclips his thick red cloak and places it on her shoulders, an icy voice echoes through the cavern. 

"The only game you play will not end well for you."

Thor looks up as his brother shimmers into view, pale face impassive, but green eyes shimmering in rage. "The only game you play," he says evenly as he steps closer to the man, "will end in your death." 

The man scrambles to his feet, not able to keep the wince from his features as he stands. "Prince Loki," a grin spreads across his face, "how nice of you to join us. Perhaps you would like to take the life of the insect instead of me?" 

In a blink, Loki is halfway across the room, his hand at the man's throat. "It's best for you to stay silent at this moment. Especially after what you've done." 

"What I've done?" The man exclaims in confusion. "I thought you would be pleased." 

"Pleased?" Loki bares his teeth savagely, untamed anger playing across his features. "You took what was mine. You hurt what was mine. I am far from pleased." 

The man blinks. "What's yours?"

Jane shakes violently. "L-Loki." She murmurs. "Please." 

Two gazes snap to her and the man's eyes widen. "You–you—she—"

"Yes," he hisses. "And you hurt her," Loki's hands shake, "you would've killed her. So now," he says with a sort of deadly calm, "I will kill you." 

"L-Loki, pleas-se." Jane stutters, shivering. "I n-need you." 

Loki's eyes flicker to her and, for a split second, Thor can see the terror in his eyes. 

"Brother, I will deal with him. Come see Jane." 

Loki's hands tighten near convulsively on the man's neck and Jane's breathing quickens. Thor's gaze shifts to her and, for the first time, he notices the sickly pallor to her skin. "Loki," he calls warningly as Jane's eyes start to slip shut. 

There is a sickening hit of flesh and a snap and suddenly Loki is taking Jane from Thor, his magic spreading across her skin. She clings to him, even half conscious, and Loki draws her closer. Thor makes to move to the man, now crumpled unconscious, but upon catching Loki's look of utter horror he stops. He watches as Loki raises a hand coated in thick, gleaming blood away from Jane's body, his brother's eyes wide. 

In the next instant, both Loki and Jane are gone. Thor tenses, every muscle and sinew screaming in want to be taken with them. But he slowly rises and makes his way over to the unconscious man, face impassive. He will be back at the palace, not quick as he would like, but in a timely manner. 

In the meantime, he prays for both Jane and Loki. 

When he arrived the halls of Asgard are unusually dark, the always lit torches burnt out and cold. He makes his way through the halls regardless, dragging the now conscious and silent man behind him. The only sound is the thump of his footsteps and the constant scrape of the man's skin and clothing against the floor. 

Thor would like to strike his hammer against the man's throat. But this is no battle, where he would likely do just that without hesitation, and the man's punishment does not fall to him. Nothing concerning this falls to him to decide. No matter how much the blood in his veins sings for the man's downfall, for his blood to be shed.

The thudding of feet draws Thor's attention and a small gathering of tall and armored guards round the corner of the hall, their weapons gleaming in the light. He stops, pulling the man to his feet. 

"Take him straight to the dungeons." He orders in a voice that brooks no argument, his tone worthy of a prince. The guards obey him without a word or sign of hesitation and, as they file past him, he grabs the forearm of one guard. 

"My brother and Jane. Where are they?" 

The guard pauses at his question and something flashes in his eyes, something that pulls him mouth down in a frown. "The infirmary, my prince." 

Thor nods his thanks, releasing the guard's arm to stride down the hall.

"My prince," the guard calls down the hall a few moments later, pausing as Thor turned to face him. "Be prepared for anything." 

The end comes much sooner than Aros would've suspected, he had thought as he was lead away from his cell. That is not to say that the end is a swift event, oh no. The only thing swift is the walk down the palace halls, lasting straight up until both his guards turn abruptly and leave.

To his surprise (and not to mention his satisfaction), they release him from his bindings just before they leave. He grins in satisfaction as he flexes his unchained hands. It appears the ties he has within the palace walls, though unstable at times, have finally pulled through. His grin widens. 

That must mean his plan had worked. The small insect, Jane Foster, was dead. Of course she was. The knife wound she’d sustained from the initial struggle when he had taken her was no trivial cut. He'd known exactly how to make it, all the pretty degrees and angles locked up inside his head. It was a fatal wound, especially for a mortal, but one that was long lasting and sure to be torturous. 

“What an usual sight.” 

Aros whirled around, eyes wide. “Who-”

“Come now, you know me, don't you?” Prince Loki stood not far off, grinning widely and recklessly. “You thought me friend, did you not?” 

“Prince Loki,” he spluttered, then paused with narrowed eyes. “Are you the reason I'm being set free?” 

His only answer was a slow, cunning smirk. 

“I knew it,” Aros exclaimed. “It was just an act, wasn't it? To trick Thor into thinking you cared.” He chortled in sudden amusement. “You probably didn't bring her to the healers until it was far too late, did you? Not that it would've taken much longer for it to be too late.” 

Again, his only was the same smirk. 

“I should thank you then.” Aros continued. “It wouldn't have worked unless you helped, so I guess I owe you a favor, my prince.” 

The prince’s eyes gleamed. “A favor?” He repeated as he took a step forward. 

He nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes, anything you ask. As you've already seen, I'm capable of near anything,” he flashed a wicked grin. “Whatever you ask, I'll do.” 

Loki’s smirk split into a wide, wild grin. 

***  
Epilogue  
***

The halls of Asgard are a bright cheery place, full of life and laughter. The festivities have been lasting a long while and torches have been lit so the partiers are able to see when traversing the halls. 

The noises of the subjects of Asgard celebrating are loud, even in the queen's chamber. Frigga smiles as she cracks open the doors of her private rooms to ensure the halls are empty. There is not a single soul in sight, save for the lone guard posted at her door. Closing the doors softly, she turns back to her rooms. 

“Are you ready?” 

“One second,” a voice calls back. “I can't-oh,” a loud noise of frustration echoes within the chambers. 

A small, dark haired woman appears around the dressing curtain in the corner of the room. Her expression is sheepish, painted pretty mouth twisted up into an embarrassed smile. 

“Can you help me? I can't get it on my own.” She explains, large copper eyes downcast. 

“Of course,” Frigga assures her. She strides across the room, motioning for her to turn around so she can clasp the back of the dress for her. She clasps the dress’s back, then smooths down any ruffles in the skirt. “There, finished.” 

“Thanks,” she says with a smile as she steps away and turns to face Frigga. “Well, how do I look?” 

“Beautiful,” she frowns. “But just one last thing,” she turns to her opened jewelry box. She examines chains of silver and gold, shaking her head at each one. They are too much, too little, or just not right. A golden flash catches her vision and she lifts the necklace with a victorious grin. 

“Here,” Frigga turns, placing the necklace around her neck and securing it without a question. “Now,” she smiles, “you look perfect, Jane.” 

Jane blushes, shaking her head and causing her curls to bounce. “Whatever. I'm sure I look ok, but perfect is a bit of a...wow.” She stares at herself with wide eyes in the mirror Frigga had summoned. 

Her hair was styled perfectly into curled ringlets that frame her face and fall across her bare shoulders and back. She isn't wearing much makeup, but the little applied on her eyes makes them seem larger and brighter than usual. Her lips aren't bad either, she thinks as she puckers them experimentally. Her dress, though…

“It's beautiful,” she breathes in awe. 

The sleeveless bodice is a feminine imitation of Loki’s armor, a bit more delicate and much less harsh. Black lace crosses in an intricate pattern over a layer of traditional golden armor similar to what most Asgardian woman wear. The lace falls almost like rain drops at the end of the bodice, streaking down into separate fine points against the green skirt of the dress. The skirt falls softly against her legs, not as voluminous and overbearing like she'd seen some women wearing out in the hall. She reached up to finger the necklace that, as sure as Frigga said, was the missing piece to her outfit. She softly traced the golden snake entwined around itself that hung at the base of her throat. 

“You look wonderful,” Frigga assured her again, then added. “He’ll love it.”

“I don't know how you did it,” Jane shook her head with a smile. “It's absolutely gorgeous.” 

“Well then, let's go see what my son thinks.” 

With that, Frigga and Jane left the queen’s chambers. The lone guard nodded at them as they passed, but they did not encounter anyone else in the halls. The partiers were all in the Great Hall now, dancing and feasting. All too soon, they stood outside the massive doors of the Great Hall, the noises of celebration louder than ever. 

“Frigga,” Jane suddenly grasped the elder woman’s arm, stopping her from entering first as planned. “I just wanted to thank you again. I never imagined–”

“You're welcome, dear.” Frigga enveloped her in a warm, motherly hug. 

“Frigga?” Her voice was unsure, questioning as she pulled back a little. “Is it wrong of me to be glad about what happened? That man kidnapping me,” she shook her head. “I know it's probably wrong, but if he hadn't none of this would be happening. Everything would still be a secret.”

“No, it's not wrong to rejoice that something good blossomed in the face of a horrible deed.”

Jane gave a relieved smile. “Good. I'm glad he’s locked away now, so that he can't try anything like that again,” she continued, then took a deep breath. “I'm sorry. I ramble when I'm nervous, let's do this.” 

With one last smile, Frigga turned away from Jane and entered the Great Hall. She strode up to the dais, the announcement of her arrival little more than background noise. The hall roared at her arrival, then proceeded to continue feasting and celebrating. From the dais, Odin raised his brow at her in question as she approached and she merely smiled in return as she took her place beside him. That appeared to answer what questions he held, and he settled back in his throne. 

Others, however, had questions unanswered. 

Loki approached her, polished armor gleaming against the light. “Mother,” he began, brow furrowed. 

“Princess Jane Foster of Midgard,” a voice suddenly boomed across the hall. “Wife of Loki Odinson.” 

The Great Hall hushed momentarily as Jane appeared, looking small and just a hair uncertain. Small and uncertain was a far cry better than pale and bloody. She stood at the entrance, frozen by the stares of almost the entirety of Asgard and the nobility of various other realms. The silence continued for a few beats longer. It was long enough for Frigga to shift nervously by Odin’s side. 

Thor suddenly surged up from within the crowd, goblet raised high above his head. “Princess Jane!” He roared. 

The Great Hall practically shook with the answering roar from all those gathered. The noise was practically monumental, far louder than she could remember issuing from within the hall not commencing after a well fought, hard won battle. From the dais, Frigga could see Jane’s answering blush and smile. Though, that was not to say she saw it for long. Jane Foster was rather average in height for human women, meaning she was practically tiny on an Asgardian scale. 

So her figure was entirely overshadowed by the taller frame of Loki. She disappeared for only a second, roughly that even, before she was being none too patiently pulled away to the dance floor. Jane’s delighted laughter was indistinguishable in all the clamor, but it was clear that her nervousness from mere moments ago had vanished. As Jane and her son approached the dance floor, the lively and upbeat music took a sudden change. The tune drifted through the hall slowly and softly in a way similar to how a stray feather floated through the wind. 

Though the tune did not fully sober the still raucous partiers, it did allow Loki to pull Jane in an intimate embrace as he began sweeping her across the floor with more skill than other could hope to claim. Frigga smiled at this, relieved and pleased. 

She had to admit, as she watched her youngest son twirl his beaming bride into another graceful turn, that Jane was right. None of this– the wedding, the courtship, the sudden truth–would've ever come out if she hadn't been kidnapped by that accursed man all those months ago. With a satisfied curve to her lips, Frigga sent a silent thanks down to the mute man sitting in the dungeons.

If not for him, there would still be secrets abound in the halls of Asgard. 

FIN


End file.
